


Rewrite

by StarTravel



Category: Star Trek: Deep Space Nine
Genre: Alien Technology, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Angst with a Happy Ending, Attempt at Humor, Cultural Differences, Getting Together, Identity Issues, Julian on Himself, Loss of Identity, Medical Experimentation, POV Multiple, Psychology, What Makes Someone a Person, unreliable narrators
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-22
Updated: 2019-01-30
Packaged: 2019-10-14 12:31:18
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 15,656
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17508683
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/StarTravel/pseuds/StarTravel
Summary: Julian has spent his entire life trying to fix the world around him - diseases, injuries, people - all to prove that the replacement of Jules was worth something.So when a piece of Cardassian technology gives Julian the ability to actually fix what’s always been broken, himself, he can't resist.





	1. Chips Are Down

Julian types a series of numbers at a speed that’s dizzying even for him, another aspect of his research becoming clear. Ever since he came back from the Dominion prison and was outed as being genetically enhanced, he’s been burying himself in his research and holoprograms. When he can’t do that he’s been telling anyone who will listen - a number which is growing increasingly smaller by the day - about both or about the Klingon poetry Martok taught him.

 He doesn’t see Dr. Telnorri because he’s _fine_. Besides, therapy has never been much help to him.

 Still, the silence almost feels suffocating at times even with his work, so it’s a welcome surprise when his office doors slide open to reveal Jadzia.

 “Julian, I have something for you. It’s a Cardassian personality chip.” Jadzia holds up the chip in question, a small piece of synthetic metal encased in a material that could best be described as goo. He raises an eyebrow, tilting his head to the right as she walks over to his side, laying the chip down on the table between them. Up close he can see the goo is actually a material called Mycellian, typically used for repairing wounds to nerve endings and cellular structure. Somehow Julian thinks that Cardassia might be using it for more nefarious purposes here.

 Julian stares down at the chip and bites his lip, rolling the words over in his head. He can feel Jadzia looking at him from the corner of her eye, feel the mild irritation with him for trying to figure out how it works purely through study and not by just _asking_ her. As though that’s any fun at all. “Personality chip? Have they gotten their own androids and not told any of us?”

 Jadzia lets out a quick laugh, her hands spreading out wide in front of her as she shakes her head back and forth, a few tendrils of her hair falling loose from her ponytail and across her face. There’s a brief flash of worry in her eyes, and Julian can relate to that. Bad enough they have the Jem H’adar and Vorta, they don’t need to add Dominion killing machines to the mix as well. She lies the chip down on the table, the mycellian trying and failing to stick to her glove. Julian knows from experience will sink into and then combine with the layers of human skin. “No, it’s for short-term spy missions, where they need them to behave differently enough no one catches on, but still remember who they are and the importance of Cardassia. It’s less like memory erasure and more like -”

 “Personality resequencing.” Julian finishes for her, not quite able to keep a hint of bitterness out of his voice. He knows plenty about that, his own soul torn apart and rebuilt nerve ending by nerve ending without him even knowing. At least these soldiers had a _choice_ in the matter. Jadzia smiles at him, soft and sympathetic, and Julian forces a wide grin as he picks the device up with his right hand. He holds it up to the light, tilting his head to the side as he examines it more closely. “Trust me when I say this is all very fascinating, but why would they need it? Couldn’t they just teach them how to embody someone else?”

 “Not everyone can be Garak, Julian.” Jadzia reminds him with a hint of a chuckle, her smile growing knowing and just a bit too intrigued for Julian’s comfort. Jadzia knows as well as anyone that Julian’s seemingly been avoiding Garak for a little over a year now, turning their daily lunches back to weekly and then down to once a month, sending Miles to have their costumes made, the works. She just doesn’t know _why_.

Julian  imagines she thinks it’s because of his attempted genocide, and that is certainly a part of it. It’s a measure Julian could never go to, never accept even if it means losing this war. But if it were just that … Julian could get past it. He knows who Garak is, or he does as well Garak’s going to let him to. Garak has never been the issue, not really.

 It’s him, who he is when he held that gun in his hand and aimed in the holosuite, all the different ways it shows he’s broken at the core. That Garak was brave enough to share his secrets with Julian and he could not do the same. Being around Garak now is a constant reminder of all the things he is and all the things he should and is not. “Don’t I know it. Why are you bringing this to me?”

 “We wanted you to study it. It’s technically medical, or closer to that than anything else, and in the wrong hands it could be dangerous.” Jadzia’s voice grows more serious for a moment, any of the teasing or playfulness in her voice gone as she meets his gaze. Julian meets her own steadily, lips pressed into a thin line as he holds the device more carefully.

 Jadzia’s not wrong. In the right hands, this could help solve a myriad of personal issues, help someone feel better, like they fit in. In the wrong hands, it could topple the entire Federation in all of twenty minutes.

 “I can imagine. I’ll make sure to get rid of it.” Julian tells her with a tight smile as he sets the chip back down carefully. His gaze flickers over it, thousands of questions on the tip of his tongue. Could he reprogram it? Change the parameters? How difficult was the coding and how quickly could he learn it? How - but Jadzia’s not going to want to hear about any of that nonsense. Not even Garak does. “Jadzia, are you busy later? I was going to run a new holoprogram -”

 “Sorry Julian, but I have plans with the adults tonight. You’ll have to play your spy games with Miles.” Jadzia’s voice is light and teasing as she shakes her head at him, gaze bemused. Then she saunters toward the lab door, not looking back at him. Julian’s glad for that, it gives him time to take a deep breath, to bury the hurt building in his chest. He knows that look far too well.

 “Very funny, Jadzia.” Julian calls and manages to make his voice sound amused, shaking his head back and forth until he hears the door to his office shut. Julian glances over at the door and then back down to the chip in front of him, so small and incospicious despite the power held within. This will make for a far more entertaining afternoon than any time with Vic Fontaine or in the _Odyssey_.

 Julian finds that he’s almost insulted at how easy the coding is to unravel, numbers and data pouring out through wires and screens in a matter of an hour. He’s sure any tech developed by the Obsidian Order would have been much harder to analyze. He’s half tempted to go find Garak so he can deride the frankly pathetic protective codes on it.

 Then he remembers his hands away the barrel of a gun and thinks better of it. Instead Julian settles for playing with the chip. After all, he can hardly destroy it unless he understands how it works. He chooses his own brain scans to test it on, different aspects of his own neural pathways and gene coming to light as he tries to explore all the different ways the chip could alter or control them.

 He can’t help the sharp burst of laughter that comes from his chest when he sees the way the part of his frontal cortex lights up when he attempts to alter his own brain patterns to be more tactful and less blunt. His father would certainly appreciate that, the smug, condescending Julian Bashir replaced with the polite, _grateful_ son he always wanted.

 Not that he’d be the only one. Julian knows Kira would like him better if he were more thoughtful, less arrogant and tactless, not the type of person stupid enough to call someone else’s home _frontier_ medicine. He can admit he probably deserved the years of dislike she had for him after that.

 And Sisko, he’d probably prefer a CMO who argued less, who didn’t question half his orders due to an obnoxious combination of naivety and self-righteousness. That’s a different part of the brain, but Julian finds that it’s just as easy to alter his thought patterns there.

 Hell, Miles would appreciate that as well. God knows the other man must be sick of trying to clean up Julian’s messes or of Julian always causing fights because he always has to be in the moral right. Really, Miles would be happy if he talked less in general, Julian can’t help but thinking with a rueful smile. He puts up with it better than most people have, but Julian can see the way his eyes glaze over when Julian talks too much about medicine or what book he’s reading or even history, hear the quiet grunts that actually mean shut up. It would be easier if he talked less, cared less.

 Really, it would be better if he didn’t have so many pet subjects at all. If he was more like most people, interested but not obsessed, hard-working but not so passionate about his work that he thought anyone else cared and - Julian lets out a sound that’s not quite a laugh as his hand brushes over the chip again. That just takes a few alterations to the programming, a few strokes of a key to align the chip even further with his own brain patterns.

 Julian could fix things with Garak too. If he just made himself a little braver and a little less argumentative, made himself care less about the standards he holds himself and the world too that everyone else finds naive at best and arrogant at worst. He could erase the fear he has of becoming even more of the person Garak wishes he were. If he did that, they could have lunch everyday again and Garak would call him dear instead of calling him heartless for statistics he can’t help knowing.

 It would probably help to make himself less stubborn and more mature too, quiet and wise and less interested in playing out silly fantasies in holodecks. Then Jadzia and everyone else wouldn’t smirk at him like he was a child, wouldn’t try to find ways out of spending more than a limited amount of time with him.

 Julian almost doesn’t realize he’s reset the brain to rewrite his mind in all the ways he’s contemplating until he looks up at the computer screen. Julian takes a deep breath, body going still as he looks at the neural patterns on the screen, at the Julian Bashir everyone would _like_ rather than just tolerate.

 Julian would still have all the things that are good about who he is now, the unnatural brilliance and quick thinking, the boundless medical knowledge and careful precision that lets him handle each surgery with ease.

 He’d finally be the man Jules Bashir deserved to be if he had to be erased.

 Julian shakes his head, pressing his free hand against his temple as he tries to remind himself that he’s been tasked with getting rid of this device, not improving it. But … was it really right to waste this technology when it could help people be who they wanted to be, free them of the flaws and qualities that pushed other people away?

 Julian picks up the chip again, carefully flipping it back and forth between two fingers. Without really coming to a decision Julian lifts the chip up and presses it against the back of his neck, feeling the strange goo spread out and pulsate against the back of his neck. Then it melts away under his fingertips, the only thing there smooth skin and a small, almost imperceptible bump where the chip now lies. Julian lets out a sigh that’s half disappointment and half relief.

 Julian doesn’t feel different. He doesn’t feel anything at all.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Miles, Jadzia, and Garak all spend time with the new and “improved” Julian Bashir.

Miles meets Julian for lunch for the first time in nearly a week and realizes leaving him alone for that long had been a mistake in about three seconds.

 He’d wanted to have lunch a few days ago, but Jadzia told him Julian was up to his ears in Cardassian medical tech and decided to wait a bit. Now he wonders if he should have stopped by yesterday, because the Julian of the moment seems less interested in being his friend than in the shape of the Trill tomatoes in his salad.

 Miles raises an eyebrow as Julian slowly makes his way through his salad, not a single having passed through his lips except ‘hello’. Normally that meant that Julian was brooding or so focused on his work that he brought it with him. But Julian doesn’t look upset so much as … content for lack of a better word, and there are no Padds in front of him. The silence would almost be nice, if it wasn’t so eerie. “Julian, are you feeling okay?”

 “Yes, why?” Julian asks softly as he takes a bite of his salad, glancing up from his plate. He looks bemused and muted at the same time, eyes not quite as wide as they usually are and expression just as lacking as his words.

 “You haven’t said _anything_ for over 10 minutes. You’re just sitting there, eating your lunch like I’m not even here.” Miles scrunches his face up in confused frustration, biting his lip a little. Really, it would make more sense if Julian _was_ brooding. Miles knows the past two months haven’t been easy for Julian, between being held in a Dominion prison and then having his biggest secret and shame outed to everyone. But it’s strange he’d only start to withdraw now out of nowhere.

 Julian just lets out a small laugh, light and quieter than his usual one. He takes another careful bite of his salad, hands dangling loosely at his side. “I thought you said you liked quiet lunches.”

 “I - well - I guess I’ve gotten used to talking when I’m having it with you.” Miles sputters at his words, taking a huge bite of his potatoes to keep himself from saying anything else. Miles raises his eyebrows a little as he waits for Julian to do that thing where his smile smug and surprised at the same, gaze filled with a teasing affection. Instead his face stays politely neutral. “Or listening, anyway.”

 “Oh, sorry, Miles. What do you want to talk about?” Julian smiles at him in a way that should be warm but somehow isn’t, gaze attentive but distant at the same time. Miles swallows the urge to prick Julian with his fork and tries to think of ways to bring Julian back to himself and away from whatever this is.

 Miles tried for a smile instead, leaning in a bit toward Julian across the table. Best to seem as interested as possible, if he wants to bring Julian out of this funk. “How was your morning? Any interesting cases?”

 “No, not really. Just two surgeries and few phaser burn treatments.” Julian murmurs as he holds his fork up, hand perfectly still in a way that looks alien on the other man. He’d almost think Julian got replaced by another changeling, but the changeling had done a better job of pretending to be Julian than this. He at least knew that Julian would spend a good 20 minutes describing each surgery. This Julian doesn’t even say what type they were. “What about you? Did anything interesting happen in engineering?”

 “Well, I did some work on a few of the control panels in the arbeotorum this morning.” Miles pauses after he speaks, raising an eyebrow pointedly. Normally this is where Julian starts rambling about his favorite plant and it’s entire gene structure. But Julian just nods and gives Miles a placid smile that lacks any real feeling. “For when Keiko comes back, I figured she’d want somewhere to keep doing her work from Bajor.”

 “That’s very nice of you, Miles. I’m sure Keiko will love it.” Julian’s voice is even and with just a hint of warmth, a brief grin coming over his face as he reaches a hand out to squeeze his shoulder. It’s gone as soon as it came and they spend the rest of the meal in a silence that Julian seems to find comfortable even as it makes Miles skin crawl. Something’s not right here.

* * *

 Jadzia saunters into the infirmary with a knowing grin and secret mission to cheer Julian up. Miles had caught her in the hallway and asked her to check in with him, worried because he seemed down at lunch. Jadzia’s a bit concerned too - Julian’s been through a lot lately - but she also wonders if it’s just simple boredom. It’s been awhile since they got to do one of his more adventurous holoprograms and honestly Jadzia’s been missing them too.

She can’t spend every night at the Klingon opera with Worf. That makes for a dull girl and Dax has been many things, but never _dull_.

 “Julian, I thought maybe we could do that new holosuite of yours tonight instead.” Jadzia calls when he keeps staring at his work and not at her, sliding an arm across his shoulder. Julian glances up at her from his sample, smiling blankly for a moment before he turns his gaze back to his work like she’s not even there. “I’ve had a long day, I could use some fun.”

 “Oh, I actually sent that back to Felix. It was a little silly for me.” Julian tells her apologetically as he continues to scan his sample. Normally when Julian gets like this, it’s because he’s too into his research to pay attention to the world around him. But that’s not the case now, his work careful and precise but with none of the usual dedication or passion she usually sees in his eyes. Julian almost looks _bored_.

 “A little silly for you?” Jadzia asks before she can stop herself, eyebrows raising as she gives Julian a quick once over. Jadzia’s starting to think Miles might be right about this being more than just stress. Julian has never thought anything he got sent was too silly before and she’s seen some of his Bond holoprograms. “I’m surprised, normally you have all of your programs planned out down to the last detail.”

 “I did this time too, but I suppose I didn’t do a very good job.” Julian sighs a little as he writes something down on his pad, a hint of a frown coming over his face as he goes over the data two more times before pushing it aside. The Julian Bashir she knows would have spent as long as it took to make sure his data was perfect. “We could do one of yours instead.”

 Jadzia lightly bumps his shoulder with hers, trying to shake him out of this daze he’s gotten himself stuck in today. Julian glances up at her with a slight grin, lightly bumping her shoulder back in a way that feels more perfunctory than affectionate. “I did just get a new King Arthur program that I think you’d really like.”

 “Sorry Jadzia, but I don’t have a suit of armor or court wear lying around.” Julian’s voice has a hint of laughter, but the usual warmth that’s there is gone from his voice and there’s no real mirth in his gaze. He places his sample to the side, giving her an apologetic half-smile even as a hint of judgment comes into his eyes. As though _Julian_ thinks her holoprogram is childish or something. “Maybe we could do that one you have at the spa or Kira’s meditation program?”

 Jadzia takes a deep breath and reminds herself not to bristle under that tone, because this isn’t Julian. Not really. Julian would have been asking if he could be Arthur or Merlin. Something is wrong here. “I know you studied meditation at Starfleet Academy, but you can do that in your room. Are you feeling okay? Usually you want to do something a little more exciting in the holosuite.”

 “I’m okay, Jadzia. I guess I’m just finally growing up.” Julian chuckles softly as he picks up another sample, eyes flashing with an emotion Jadzia can’t name for a second, but that reminds her of regret.

 “I guess so.” Jadzia murmurs after a second, not able to keep a hint of sadness from her voice. She’s worried about Julian and she really did want to do something fun with him tonight. Right now Jadzia feels like it might be awhile before she gets to do anything fun with Julian again.  She just wishes she knew _why._

* * *

 Julian feels like something has been off all week, but he can’t quite place _what._ He considers that it might have been the chip he impulsively stuck inside of himself and then pushes the thought away. If the chip _is_ working, the only side effects should be him being less annoying, not a nagging sensation of wrongness he can’t put into words. Besides, he doubts it’s doing much of anything. He’d take it out and assess the differences in brain function if it had.  

 He’s probably just catching a cold. Julian pushes the thoughts aside and tries to keep to his routine, down to showing up at Quark’s for darts night even though he has nothing new to tell Miles and that seems to be all he wants these days.

 Julian watches as Miles throws his dart at just the right angle to get the maximum velocity, the dart gliding through the air with an ease birds would be jealous of. Julian feels a rush of pride that doesn’t go quite as deep as he feels like it should, one hand coming up to rest on Miles’ shoulder. “That was a great shot, Miles.”

 “Oh, sure it was when it’s only halfway to a good mark.” Miles scoffs as he shakes his head, glancing at Julian out of the corner of his eye. Julian shrugs his shoulder when Miles lets out a laugh that’s somehow rueful and hopeful at the same. Julian hopes he wins too. “What are you trying to butter me up with empty flattery before you go in for the kill?”

 “What? No, I just thought it was a good shot, the angle was - never mind.” Julian cuts himself off with a quick shake of the head, grin apologetic as he carefully pats Miles on the shoulder. He wants to laugh at himself a little, because as though Miles has any interest in hearing about the mathematics behind the quality of his shot. Hell, Julian’s not even sure _why_ he wanted to talk about it. It’s not exactly interesting.

 Miles stares at him for a moment, lips pressed into a thin line as though he’s waiting for something. Julian has no idea _what,_ so he settles for taking a long of his red leaf tea. It’s somehow less rich than usual, some of the flavor lost to him. Miles lets out a grunt, running a hand across his face slowly. “So you doing anything fun after this? I know tomorrow’s your day off.”

 “No, just finishing a novel Garak and I agreed to read a few weeks ago.” Julian picks up his own dart and throws it at the board without looking, gaze locked onto his hands. He feels like he used to fiddle with the darts more, make more of a show of each shot, but he can’t remember for the life of him _why_.

 It’s just the same as the book he and Garak are reading. There’s been nothing _wrong_ with it so far, the syntax is well-crafted and the characters are relatively dynamic for a novella. But when Julian looks over the pages, he finds dozens of hurried notes and exclamation points and underlined passages all in his own handwriting. He must have been excited about the novel but now -

 Well, Julian guesses he just got carried away before and now he’s closer to earth.  

 “Did you like it?” Miles asks after a moment, raising an eyebrow when Julian just stares at him blankly. Julian gives Miles a weak smile before taking another sip of his tea. Maybe if he delays answering long enough Miles will be more specific or forget he asked in favor of ale and more darts. Miles makes a frustrated sound deep in his throat, gaze suddenly exhausted. “The novel.”

 “Oh it was all right. I might catch up on some paperwork too.” Julian throws his dart and watches it glide through the air, thin and precise as it hits the center of the board, which lights up in an array of dazzling colors. Miles shakes his head and lets out a rough laugh, lightly punching Julian in the arm. Julian grins, feeling almost happy for a moment as he turns to pat Miles on the shoulder in turn.

 The emotion doesn’t last the time it takes to walk to the dart board, taking each one off carefully and laying them down. Julian tries to give Miles a friendly wave and quick excuses even as the other man smiles just a little too tight to be natural, eyes heavy with worry.

 Julian frowns softly at that, giving Miles another quick pat on the shoulder before he makes his way to his quarters. He feels tired today, strangely listless as he thumbs through the last few pages of the novella Garak gave him.

 Julian thinks the ending is meant to be horrifying and that Garak chose it to annoy him, but he can’t bring himself to feel much over it.

* * *

 Garak smiles widely as Julian approaches the table on the day of their monthly lunch, on time instead of hiding away in his lab. Julian gives a quick nod, expression strangely blank as he slides into the chair across from him. Curious. Normally Julian makes no effort to hide his emotions, each one cascading across his face the instant he feels it. “Doctor, I’m surprised to see you here. Normally you try and reschedule our lunches at the last minute over and over until I force my way into the infirmary.”

 “I finished the book on time for once.” Julian murmurs as he sets his tray down in front of him, grinning a little in a way that still feels far too benign for the other man. Usually Julian crosses the room to their table in a hurry when he actually comes, expression either excited and eager to talk or livid over what Garak made them read this time. This emptiness though, Garak’s not sure what to make of that yet. 

 “My dear, that was a weak attempt even for you.” Garak chides with a quick shake of the head, grinning slightly in spite of himself. He’s missed teasing Julian. But the other man doesn’t rise to the bait this time, smile polite but lacking any of the fond irritation he’s gotten used to. Garak’s smile fades a little as he raises an eye ridge, trying to make his voice match the evenness of Julian’s expression. “I imagine you’ll want to defend Gul Tirel?”

 “I tended to agree with her, but I could see Gul Rhejor’s point of view as well.” Julian tells him as he tilts his head slightly to the right. There’s none of the delighted smugness that usually fills Julian’s voice when he manages to prove Garak wrong; nor is there any of the teasing curiosity when he just says something in a none too subtle attempt to find out what Garak thinks. There’s not even the forced reserve and wistfulness of the past few months.

 There’s nothing but a bored acceptance. Garak can’t have that. He smirks slow and dangerous, trying to regain some of the footing Julian’s stolen from him. “Could _you?_ ”

 “He was trying to protect the honor of the state and his family. I might not agree with him, but his actions make sense.” Julian answers him in an even voice, no hint of his usual enthusiasm or passion that colors all of his arguments there. Garak can’t quite tell what game they’re playing here. Normally Garak finds that intriguing, but something about this makes his shackles rise instead.

 “Do they? Even though he betrayed her trust and was willing to sacrifice his friendship with her?” Garak jabs a finger out, voice curling around each word as he infuses them with an unspoken challenge. He wants to see Julian’s face light up with the slow realization of _why_ Garak chose the _Raven and The Songbird_ to read, to see the flurry of emotions flicker across those eyes.

 But nothing ever comes.

Instead Julian gives him a polite half-smile, titling his head to the right as he goes to pick up his fork. Julian meets his gaze steadily but without any real feeling, as though all of his morals suddenly mean nothing to him. “He was acting as he’d been raised to and his motives made sense. Like I said, it isn’t what I would do, but that doesn’t mean it’s wrong or that I can judge him.”

 Garak swallows a bit, mouth suddenly dry as he takes in Julian’s words. He can’t judge this fictional man, this specter of Cardasssian pride. But he can judge Garak with all the ease Federation smugness allows. “Really?”

 “Really.” Julian tells him with a hint of laughter, shaking his head a little as a sparkle comes into his gaze. But it’s gone as quickly as it came, gaze back to bland, unknowing gaze he’s been wearing since he sat down. Something here is wrong. Garak just doesn’t know if it’s with Julian or because of Julian. “Garak, is there any chance you want to have lunch tomorrow too? We could talk about one of your Enigma Tales.”

 “Of course, my dear.” Garak tells him with a tight smile, reaching one hand out to graze it along the inside of Julian’s wrist. The other man doesn’t so much as blink, smile banal in a way Garak never thought Julian could even _be._

 Yes, Garak will have lunch with Julian tomorrow and every day until he figures out what exactly happened to his dear doctor and how to fix it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please let me know if you think anything else needs to be tagged! 
> 
> Comments and questions are loved! :D


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Garak, Miles, and Jadzia are starting to think something might be more wrong with Julian than they thought. Julian just wants to catch up on paperwork.

 Miles spots Julian half turned to the side in the hallway. He feels his stomach lurch when he sees the expression on his friend’s face. Or rather the lack of expression, face still and empty. It’s not the blank look Julian has sometimes when he gets too caught up in his daydreams or research either. There’s no far away passion, no shine to his gaze.

 Julian’s just. Listless almost, even as his gaze finally locks into Miles instead of empty spaces.

 “Miles! I was hoping to catch you before your next shift.” Julian calls as he walks towards him, barely picking up his pace from where it was when Miles first spotted him a few seconds ago. That’s not typical for Julian either. The fact that he’s holding up a worn brown teddy bear, one of the eyes slightly loose, is at least a more Julian-type of strange. “Here, I brought you this for Molly or Kirayoshi, or both of them. I figure they could use it more than me.”

 Miles glances down at the bear blankly for a second, wondering where Julian found such a worn but well-cared for teddy out here. Then it hits Miles and he feels the air go out of his chest, voice practically a rasp when he speaks. “Julian, is this Kukalaka?”

 “Yes, I kept him in my quarters, but I figured I haven’t needed him for several years.” Julian answers with a quick laugh, short and just a touch self-conscious. That at least sounds a bit more like his Julian, even if it doesn’t last nearly long enough. Julian holds the bear up again with a half-smile, and if he’s going to miss the teddy bear he’s held onto for 25 odd years, it doesn’t show in his face.

 Miles swallows tightly, furrowing his brow as he stares at Julian’s loose grip on the bear. Miles might not understand Julian’s attachment to the toy, but he knows it means a lot to him, sits on the shelf by his bed and that Julian says goodbye to it before he leaves for conferences. Miles knows he wouldn’t just give the teddy bear away casually and without several excruciatingly detailed explanations of how Molly and Kirayoshi should treat the toy.

 That, and the one time Julian lent it to someone before, he was in a bad mood for _days_. “Really? Because I remember you being pretty upset when you thought you’d given him away to Leeta.”

 “You don’t need to remind me, Miles.” Julian manages to sound confused and embarrassed at the same time, glancing down at the bear like he’s never seen it before. Miles wonders idly if he should tell him the way he’s holding onto the arm could pull on the crooked stitches along the side of the bear’s arm. Julian gives him a half-smile, gaze distant and polite as his glance flickers between Miles and the bear. “I guess I was just holding on to Kukalaka out of sentiment.”

 “Julian, are you sure you’re okay? You’ve been acting really strange the past few days. Well, strange for you.” Miles mutters in the hopes of pulling either a bright laugh and an enthusiastic grin from his friend, and barring that, at least an affectionate eye roll. All Miles gets is a quick shake of the head and a smile that somehow reaches Julian’s eyes and still has no real feeling behind it.

 “Between you and Jadzia, I’m starting to wonder if I am.” Julian tells him and his smile grows a bit more playful, though it’s still muted. It’s as though someone turned Julian down from his usual 11 to a 3. Julian shrugs his shoulders and presses the bear out towards him again, tilting his to the right. “But no, everything is fine.”

 Miles swallows tightly as he reaches a hand out and presses it lightly against Julian’s shoulder, a part Miles worried that any amount of pressure will make his friend shatter into pieces he has no idea how to glue back together. That doesn’t mean he’s not going to try. “Right it’s just - you know - it’d be okay if you weren’t okay. After everything that happened to you over the past few weeks and if you needed to talk about it-”

 “Thank you, Miles, but I really am okay.” Julian’s voice is light and reassuring, gaze measured and careful as he presses the teddy bear against Miles hands. After a moment Miles takes the bear carefully into his hands, glancing down at the shining eyes that he swears look more like Julian’s than the ones in front of him.

 Miles mumbles a thank you as he stumbles down the hallway and away from Julian’s seeming indifference to everything. Miles holds up the bear - Kukalaka, what a name - in his hands and stares at the crooked stitches along his right arm and chest, the beat, sharp ones in his left leg. Miles wonders when Julian did each one, how many times he’s fixed this bear or tried to make it better, the way his parents did to him.

 Miles wonders and then gives the bear a light squeeze, voice coming out more watery than he’d strictly like. “I think he’s lying to the both of us.”

* * *

Garak saunters into the infirmary like he owns it, ignoring the nurses who stare at him with disdain for being Cardassian, and smiling beatifically at the ones who look at him with annoyance he’s sure is all for the good doctor. That he can at least understand.

 Still, he ignores it and pushes through the door to Julian’s office without so much as knocking, hoping to catch him off-guard and thus unable to put on the bizarre mask of yesterday.

 Garak doesn’t expect to find Commander Dax there, leaning against the edge of Julian’s desk with an almost pained expression, but he doesn’t find he minds. Having her there might make it harder for Julian to pretend.

 Julian turns around with the same bland smile from yesterday, gaze lacking both the eagerness and warmth of the first years of their friendship and the strange mixture of longing and a fear Garak can’t quite solve that’s taken its place over the past few months. Garak grins brightly at him anyway, gaze affectionate and dangerous all at once. “Garak, you’re early. To what do I owe the pleasure?”

 “I thought we could walk together to the replimat. We have seen each other so rarely in the past few months, Doctor, it only made sense to spend more time together when we have the chance.” Garak tells Julian in a lilting voice, the kind that promises all kinds delights and diversions he’s never quite delivered on yet. Normally that makes Julian shiver with anticipation, his eyes widening curiously in a way that makes Garak smile in spite of himself.

 Now all Julian does is give him a half nod, smile so careful it’s almost offensive.

 “I thought you two had lunch yesterday.” Jadzia raises an eyebrow as she glances between them, her hands clasped behind her back as she paces the short space between her shared workstation with Julian and the doorway. She worries her lips a little, gaze taking on a note of suspicion as she finally settles for staring Garak down.

 “We did, but we didn’t get a chance to finish discussing Telmar’s short stories.” Julian tells her with a quick nod, fingers moving just a bit too slowly over his padd as he clicks it off. Garak frowns at that, ridges tensing as he watches Julian thoughtlessly push his research aside.

 _His_ Julian would have insisted on finishing whatever he was working on, even if it meant Garak had to stand there for twenty minutes and watch his hands fly over the keys as though he were more of a pianist than Doctor.

 “Because you disagreed too much?” Jadzia asks and this time her voice has a note of hopefulness that makes Garak understand. He’s not the only one who the doctor is acting like a stranger with. Fascinating. Garak meets Jadzia’s gaze steadily this time, ridges tensing ever so slightly but enough that she understands this is not his doing.

Julian lets out a short laugh, different from either the rueful and quietly delighted ones he has when he’s wrong, or the bright, too loud chortles that sometimes burst out of him in Quark’s. This one has no emotion behind it at all, save maybe a hint of bemusement Garak finds irritating. “Of course not, it’s just a novel.”

 Garak meets Jadzia Dax’s gaze for a moment, firm and knowing in a way Garak appreciates. A shared worry passes between them, and then what he likes to think is an understanding follows as he picks up one of Julian’s padd. If hurting Julian means ending this little play of his, Garak is the best one to do it. “Is this your research on Ketracel White? You know, with a bit of alteration this could be used as a weapon against them, rather than a cure.”

 “I imagine it could, vaccines are often like that. I’d prefer not to have it used for that purpose, but if it’s what Starfleet needs to win this war … I suppose it doesn’t matter.” Julian’s voice comes off as light and non-committal, only the vaguest trace of disappointment there. As though they were talking about the replimat being out of Tarkalean tea and not his research being used for potential genocide.

 Garak thinks that might have made him almost proud, in a different life. At the moment it just makes his stomach drop in a way that’s unfamiliar to him.

 “Wouldn’t you fight them?” Jadzia’s voice comes out a bit too tight to be as casual as she’d like, her mouth shaking a little as she stares over at Julian with wide eyes. Her hand clasps the edge of their desk, grip so tight her knuckles start to turn white. Julian looks up at her and tilts her head to the left, frowning apologetically like he can tell she’s upset but not _why_. That at least is a bit more like the man Garak knows.

 Julian shakes his head, pursing his lips together and furrowing his brow slightly in confusion. It’s the most emotion he’s shown in days and Garak can’t believe it’s for this. “Just because I’m not sure it’s right doesn’t mean I’m right. The admirals know far more about what it takes to win a war than I do.”

 “Of course.” Garak agrees in a voice that’s not as empty as he’d like, gaze turned away from Julian and towards Jadzia. The horror in her gaze, the way her mouth has gone still tells him all he needs to know. Julian is broken, shattered and emptied out, and no one has any idea why except Julian, and he appears unwilling to share.

 Then Julian smiles at him placidly as though he’s done something right and Garak wonders if he knows after all.

* * *

Jadzia sends two quick text messages over her comm - and she knows the situation’s dire when she’s using that old of technology - to Miles and Garak asking them to meet her in her quarters at 21:00 hours. Garak arrives five minutes early with a bottle of kanar, just in case she had any doubts that he knew what this meeting was about.

 Jadzia smiles and takes several swigs in the time it takes Miles to get there, expression a tight scowl that makes it clear he knows why he’s here too, even if he’s not ready to admit it yet. Good. Jadzia can skip the explanation then.

 Miles crosses his arms as he paced back and forth in her quarters, gaze snapping across the room as though he expects something to leap out and attack him any second. Eventually he settles down enough to collapse into her armchair, arms crossed tightly against his chest and a borderline snarl on his face. This was already going _great_. “Why is Garak here?”

 “Because we’re here to talk about Julian.” Jadzia crosses her arms as she glances between the two men pointedly, because she doesn’t have time to play referee with their egos. Not when Julian is coming apart at the seams for no apparent reason. “I’m guessing both of you have noticed _something’s_ wrong with him.”

 “His lack of objection to genocide _did_ seem unusual.” Garak murmurs in a tone that sounds mocking, but his gaze holds no mirth. Jadzia tilts her head to the side, meeting his gaze with a tight smile of her own, wondering if they’re both picturing the same bored expression on Julian’s face, the indifference to everything that used to define him.

 “His what?” Miles snaps as his eyes widen, gaze flicking between them as his mouth hangs open. Garak merely smiles at him, tilting his head to the left in a way that feels pointed. Miles deflates slowly, body slumping as his face crumples a little. When he speaks his voice is pained, as though he blames himself for not calling this meeting first. “He gave me his teddy bear, for Molly and Kirayoshi.”

 Garak raises an eye ridge as he presses his fingers under his bottom lip, eyes lighting up with curiosity and something more devious. Miles lets out a low groan, but there’s no animosity there so Jadzia doesn’t try to keep the peace. “Julian had a pet bear?”

 “No it’s a toy - look, it’s really important to him and he wouldn’t just casually give it away, is the point here!” Miles cries as he throws his hand out in frustration, face scrunching up so she can see every age line in his face. Garak smiles slightly, in a way that’s genuinely amused and not real all at once, the ridges around his eyes rising slightly. Jadzia thinks he knows _exactly_ what Kukalaka means to Julian. “That’s not Julian, at least not how he should be.”

 “Do we think it’s a founder again?” Jadzia asks with pursed lips, arms crossed against her chest as she considers the possibility. At least this time they would have actually noticed, unlike the last month or all the Klingons with Martok for over two years. That would mean they’ve made some headway with their research on the founders.

 But Jadzia doesn’t remember the changeling being so emotionless last time around either.

 Garak raises an eye ridge, shaking his head a bit as though to chide both of them for even considering it. Miles makes a grunt low in his throat and Jadzia tries to ignore both of them and focus on the elephant that isn’t in the room. Garak lifts his hands up, palms flat and somehow beseeching and condescending all at once. Jadzia can see why someone like Julian used to be so infatuated with him. “Why would the founders do a _worse_ job at pretending to be the good doctor?”

 “That’s a fair point. But we should still check, just to be sure.” Jadzia tilts her head to the left, pressing her hand under her chin and letting some of the decades of wisdom flow through her. She’s going to need it if Julian’s _not_ a founder. None of the other Dax’s have been counselors, but they’ve at least known and seen a vast swath of experience in their combined lifetimes. Maybe at least one of them will have insight into what’s going on with Julian.

 “Then what?” Miles asks softly, whatever fight that was in him before going out as the worry overtakes him.

 “Then we confront Julian about what’s going on.” Jadzia says in a voice that’s more decisive than she feels, gaze steady as she looks between the two men. She knows that whatever the outcome here is, the end results are going to hurt each of them in different ways. If it’s a founder again, then Garak has been deceived again, proven to know Julian no better than the rest of them. And if he’s not, she and Miles have left their friend fall apart more and more each day since he got back from Internment Camp 371, missing all the hints that he wasn’t as okay as he claimed.

 And more than anything is the fear that they’re going to be too late, that the Julian they know is gone for good. Then - well, then Jadzia guesses they have to live with this new reality. But they can’t do _anything_ until they talk to Julian.

* * *

Julian lets out a low exhale as the doors to his quarters slide open, looking forward to finishing up the last of his paperwork and then getting an early night. He’d considered going to the holodecks or reading the Andorran poetry Garak lent him yesterday, but neither seem as interesting as a good night’s sleep.

So it’s _almost_ disappointing when he realizes that he’s not alone, enhanced hearing picking up the sound of soft breathing from his bedroom.

 Julian raises an eyebrow when he enters his room to find Garak sitting on one side of his couch, one arm spread out over the back and the other patting the cushion in the middle as though in invitation. Jadzia sits on the other side of the couch, legs crossed and hands folded together in her lap. Miles sits in his armchair, posture looking defeated and hurt in a way that makes Julian swallow tightly. Something must be seriously wrong, for all three of them here _together._

 Still Julian forces a smile on his face and moves toward the replicator, because he’s not going to be a bad host just because his friends might come bearing bad news. “What are the three of you doing here together?”

 “You’re not worried we broke into your quarters?” Miles mutters in a low voice, sounding worry and almost a little irritated. Julian feels his smile grow a bit tighter, because Miles is right, he does need to be more careful. If only he’d asked that chip to make him less trusting too.

“That’s actually not strange for him, I do it all the time.” Garak tells them all with a practically beatific smile, gaze a challenge as he meets Julian’s own from across the room. Julian has no idea what the other man wants from him, to play along even though it happened at most three times, or to grow flustered and deny it, hands wringing in the air ridiculously. Both feel like play acting though, so he settled for tilting his head to the right without giving any answers.

 “Anyway, we just wanted - here, we’re going to prick all of our fingers, and then you can prick yours.” Miles snaps as he holds up one of his own medical devices, pricking his finger so they can all watch the bright red blood spread out inside. Nothing happens then or when Jadzia pricks her own, the same rich red filling her tube. Garak is next and Julian notes idly that his blood is a shade darker. Jadzia presses one of the tubes into his hand, her face tense and hands almost shaking.

 Julian pricks his finger precisely and quickly, watching as the red blood fills the tube the same as the rest of them. Julian waits until it’s clear that it won’t morph into founder before he gives them all a placating smile. He’s not sure why they thought there was another founder in their midst, but he’s glad he could ease their fears about it. “There, not a founder again.”

 “Then what is going on with you?” Jadzia’s tone is harsher than she clearly expects, her gaze almost apologetic as she pulls away from him a bit. Julian has no answers for her words though. There’s nothing going on with him, except some paperwork he needs to catch up on. _They’re_ the ones who all seem to be in mourning.

 “I don’t know what you’re talking about, could you be more specific.” Julian asks I’m a soft voice, glancing down at the white tiles of his quarters. He has no idea what’s gotten into Jadzia and Miles or _how_ they dragged poor Garak into it. Maybe he’s felt a bit out of sorts, but he’s hardly acting out of the norm and he hasn’t caused trouble for anyone or dragged them into a boring conversation in weeks. They should all be _thrilled_.

 “You’re not been acting like yourself for over two weeks now. You’re all - quiet and reserved and you don’t care about anything.” Miles tells him in a tight voice, shaking his head back and forth a few times as though the sheer intensity of the motion will get his point across better. Julian blinks a bit, swallowing several biting comments about how Miles has wanted that for years.

 Julian notices that they aren’t nearly as close to the tip of his tongue as they usually are and then pushes the thought aside. He’s the same as he’s always been.

 “That’s not true. I care about all of you.” Julian corrects them softly and it’s true. That he knows in the core of him. Something makes him shudder at the words though, something small in the back of his mind that says he used to care about other things too.

 Jadzia seems to get her answers in the shake of his shoulder, reading something in his expression that makes her face go still. Julian watches her take a few deep breaths, hands shaking, and he can’t tell if she’s trying to bury irritation or despair. “Two weeks. That’s when I gave you - Julian, what have you done?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As always, comments and questions are welcomed and loved!


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Garak, Jadzia, and Miles work together to try and get Julian to realize something is wrong. Julian has an identity crisis.

What do you mean what has he done?” Miles’ voice comes out in a snap, gaze shifting from fearful to determined. She can see the cogs turning in his head. Jadzia gets it. If they what the problem is, they should be able to fix it. She’s just not sure it’s going to be that easy this time. Miles finally looks to Julian again, tone a bit less harsh than it was before. “Julian, what have you done?”

 “I haven’t done anything, and even if I had, it would be in all of your favor.” Julian answers him coolly as he presses his hands together in front of him, as stiff as the rest of him. It’s all the confirmation Jadzia needs that he did exactly what she thinks he did, and she swallows down curses in several federation languages. 

 Jadzia presses her hand flat against his coffee table, meeting Julian’s gaze anyway. She might already know the answer, but she wants to hear it from him.  “Did you put the chip in your head?” 

 “No.” Julian corrects her in a slightly tight voice, gaze flickering away from both of them to her hands on the desk. Then he looks up at her with a slight frown, voice almost but not quite apologetic. “I put it in the back of of my neck.”

 “ _ What  _ did you put in your neck.” Garak’s voice comes out pointed as he reaches his right hand out towards Julian, close to but not quite touching him. Julian tilts his head with the same blank expression. He doesn’t say anything. 

 “A Cardassian personality chip.” Jadzia tries to push down the slight shake of her voice and focus on the situation instead. She can’t deal with the Julian of it all until they figure out what exactly he’s done with the chip and how they can remove it. Jadzia just needs to focus on the science. “I assume you reprogrammed the chip to match your brain scans, to make you - this.”

 “It’s not working, so you don’t need to worry.” Julian assures them with a hint of disappointment, hands folded carefully as he shifts back on the cushion. Jadzia can’t help staring at him, her eyes widening as she waits for the punchline. Had Julian really not noticed? 

 “We don’t program it for you to notice you’re behaving differently, Julian.” Garak scoffs as he shakes his head a little, lips pursed. Julian gives him a blank stare, but she can see the trembling in the set of his shoulders, the stiffness coming over his limbs. Jadzia chooses to believe that’s a good sign. “That would defeat the purpose.”

 Miles glances between them with a tight gaze, hands clenching and unclenching a few times before he finally speaks. His voice sounds rough, like it’s been dipped in sandpaper. “So we’re saying Julian stuck a piece of Cardassian tech that steals your soul in his head on a  _ whim?”  _

 “If it makes you feel better, I programmed it to make me not impulsive anymore.” Julian quips in a way that has none of his usual mirth or sheepfulness. His smile feels as brittle as Trillian crystal. 

 “Somehow that doesn’t.” Miles huffs out as he crosses his arms tightly against his chest, leaning forward as he reaches a hand out toward Julian the same way Garak has, except he softly squeezes his shoulder. Miles’ voice is heavy with emotion when he speaks, as if he’s taken all the ones Julian’s given away. “Why would you -“

 “How do we take it out?” Jadzia cuts him off and tries to lessen the distress in her voice. She forces a bright smile on her face, because if Julian hadn’t realized the chip is working until now, maybe he never wanted to be this in the first place. Maybe they can just have Garak and Julian work together to remove the chip and laugh about this later. Many years later, but still. 

 “You’re not going to.” Julian tells them in an eerily calm voice as he suddenly stands up with a grace he shouldn’t have. So much for that hope. Jadzia rolls to her feet, ready to try and argue with him when Julian vanishes in a wave of bright light. Jadzia wonders when he figured out how to hack the transporter system without talking. 

 Miles stares at the fading light for a few seconds, hands clenched so tightly that Jadzia thinks he must be bruising his palms. Then he stands up, gaze taking on a more determined edge as he pushes past the coffee table. “Let me try talking to him first.”

 “Okay.” Jadzia murmurs softly, because she has no quick ideas this time, no witty comments that will bring Julian out of this kind of mood. Garak doesn’t answer with more than a half nod, gaze tired in a way she doesn’t think he’d have let the two of them see before today. 

 Miles leaves without saying anything else. Jadzia replicates them another bottle of kanar. She’s pretty sure they’re going to need it. 

* * *

 

 Julian raises an eyebrow as he watches his doors slide open, the lock apparently having been overridden. He wonders if it’s going to be Garak or Miles. He’s not sure which would be easier to convince. Garak understands the Cardassian technology, but Miles is an engineer. He should be able to make both of them realize that he can keep the chip without any damage to himself. 

 Julian just needs a little bit of time to figure out the right calculations. Then he’ll be better. Julian lifts a hand up in greeting to Miles, a hint of a smile on his face. “First you break into my quarters, now you’re breaking into my office.”

 “Well, at least you’re starting to sound a bit more like yourself.” Miles grunts with a hint of a smile, even as it makes Julian’s stomach drop. if Jadzia’s right and the chip really is working, he shouldn’t be able to sound like his old self at all. Not unless he made some kind of mistake when he reprogrammed the chip, which he supposes is possible. he’s not infallible, after all. “Any chance that means you took the thing out?”

 “Sorry, but no and I’m not going to. This is who I want to be, Miles.” Julian keeps his voice steady, meeting Miles’ incredulous gaze with a firm one of his own. Julian can understand why this might seem terrifying to Miles, who's had his mind used as someone else’s plaything far too many times. But it’s not the same thing at all. Julian made this choice this time. No one else did. 

 Miles tilts his head to the right, a silent war flashing in his gaze. then he takes a few steps forward, one of those clenched fists coming up to rest against his desk. His voice sounds almost hurt and Julian can’t understand why. “What was wrong with who you were before?”

 “I believe you made a laundry list of that several times.” Julian reminds him with a bit of a laugh, smiling just the right amount, not too wide or excited. A flicker of surprise spreads across Miles’ face and Julian tries to make his expression more reassuring. None of those things will be an issue anymore. 

 “Yeah, But  _ affectionately. _ ” Miles mutters in a low voice, gaze dropping to Julian’s desk between them as though it will have the answers he wants. Then Miles swallows tightly, voice coming out a bit strained. “I mean, not always but for a good two years now. Maybe longer.”

 “That’s very sweet, Miles, but I like myself more like this. Give it time and you all will too.” Julian gives him the same, perfectly reassuring smile from before as he clasps Miles shoulder. Miles looks up at him, gaze filled with an emotion Julian’s not sure he’s ever seen there before. It’s sad but it’s also more than that, longing and confused and  _ afraid _ . 

 Miles pulls away from his grasp and takes a few steps back toward the doorway. Miles smiles at him in a way that feels like a goodbye. “I don’t think so.” 

* * *

  Miles heads back to Julian’s quarters without thinking about it, not sure where else to go. Keiko and Molly are visiting Bajor and he’s not sure this is a problem he can go to Worf or the Captain with. Not when it will get Julian into even more trouble than he’s gotten himself into.

 “Any chance that delightful common sense of yours rubbed off on the good doctor?” Garak asks when he walks back into Julian’s room, neither him nor Jadzia bothering to leave in the time it took Miles to go try and fail to talk to Julian. Well that and he also downed two pints in Quark’s on the way back, because he could use a stiff drink and kanar just isn’t gonna cut it. 

 Miles shakes his head as he slumps onto the edge of Julian’s couch, not sure if he wants to hug the throw pillow next to him or shake it until he feels better. Just like Julian. “He says he likes himself better like this.”

 “I never realized Julian had such poor taste.” Garak lets out a low sigh as he holds up a glass of kanar, leaning back against Julian’s arm chair like he belongs there. Maybe he does, and Miles tries to chase that  _ thought _ away as soon as it comes to him. “Be that as it may, I’m afraid we can’t let him keep the chip.”

 “Of course we can’t.” Jadzia’s voice is a mixture of careful and curious, gaze flickering over Garak. Miles follows her line of sight, swallowing a bit when he sees Garak’s ridges move just a fraction. That never means anything good. “But you don’t just mean because we want him back or because it’s breaking Starfleet protocol, do you?”

 “I could care less about breaking Starfleet protocol.” Garak assures then with a tight smile. Miles can’t help the rough chortle that escapes his throat, half annoyed and half genuinely amused. Garak’s reliable, in his own way. Then Garak’s smile fades, gaze growing cool as he glances back of them and to the wall instead. “Those chips aren’t meant for long-term or constant years. A few years at most, and I imagine that one’s already been in use for some time.”

 Jadzia swallows tightly and Miles can practically see all the questions flashing across her gaze. He’s pretty sure they’re the same ones going through his own head right now. “And if Julian leaves it in?”

 “Then at some point it will start to systematically attack the grey matter in his brain.” Garak says in the same tone of voice that anyone else might talk about the weather. But Miles knows Garak well enough now to see the way the ridges along his face tighten to know he’s worried. And that’s never a good sign. 

 “What? Why?” Miles can’t quite hide the way his eyes widen, even though nothing the Cardassian so should surprise him at this point. But this is Julian here. 

 “Presumably if a spy doesn’t come back in time, they’ve either been compromised in some way or failed in their mission.” Garak explains in a perfectly placid tone that still manages to be condescending at the same time. Then Garak suddenly stands up with a grace and quickness that throws Miles. “Let me talk to the good doctor, I think I may be more convincing. After all, I am the only one who likes his brain as much as him.”

 Then Garak is gone through the doorway. Miles slumps further into the plush cushions of the couch and hopes that Garak knows Julian better than him after all. 

* * *

 

 Garak doesn’t even bother to try to ring the door of Julian’s office, hacking the code and pushing his way into the room. His presence obviously can’t be a surprise after the Chief, so he settles for putting on his most unsettling smile as he strides toward Julian’s desk. 

 “Garak, if you’re here to try and convince me to take the chip out, there’s really no point in bothering.” Julian tells him without looking up from his datapad, fingers still too slow as they move across the screen. Garak lets out a low huff and takes a few steps forward until Julian finally meets his gaze. 

 Garak keeps his tone conversational, light as though they’re just playfully sparring over lunch. He still takes the padd from Julian’s grasp and sets it to the side before Julian can make any more scientific breakthroughs. “Those chips are only meant for temporary use.”

 “For now. With a few alterations to the Gelatin structure and some modifications to the core, I think I should be able to disable the destructive qualities.” Julian’s voice should either be clipped or exuberant, depending on if he’s more annoyed with Garak or excited behind the science behind his latest project. Instead it’s matter of fact, as though the permanent alteration of his brain is the same as talking about what to have for lunch. 

 Garak shakes his head with a hint of a smile, gaze farting away from Julian to the padd on the shelf. “I don’t think you’ll be doing that, Doctor.” 

 “You don’t think I’d be able to?” Julian asks evenly, voice holding none of the affront or challenge he’s gotten used to when he or someone else tells the doctor he can’t, as though he can’t imagine knowing better than someone else. 

 Maybe Garak can use this change to his advantage in getting the chip out of Julian’s neck. 

 “On the contrary, my dear, I’m sure you could. I just know that you shouldn’t. And I think once we remove that chip from your brain, you will too.” Garak reaches a hand out and brushes it against Julian’s cheek breathily, feels the soft, smooth skin there that is at once familiar and alien. Then he lets the same hand drop to Julian’s shoulder in a firm grasp. 

 “Why?” Julian asks and there’s a nod of genuine curiosity there, a hint of desperation. Julian winces then and grasps at the back of his neck while Garak tries to hold down the hope building in his chest. 

 Garak raises an eye ridge, his lips curling into a smile that he knows is more threatening than kind. Garak’s voice comes out chiding, bordering on a lecture as he reaches his hands up to tightly grip Julian’s shoulders. “What would you say if a patient came in to your clinic asking for a new personality?”

 “That would depend on the patient and what they wanted to change.” Julian’s voice is just a touch clipped this time, as though his natural personality is trying to overtake the chip. Garak wonders if that stubborness is common among humans or unique to Julian. “I’m better like this. No more annoying people by talking too much about things no else cares about, no more awkward questions and too much energy, no more childish hobbies. No more moralism and self-righteousness keeping me from what I want.”

 “What difference does those things being gone make if they mean what you want doesn’t want you back anymore?” Garak asks softly as he lets his thumb run along the bare skin where the top of Julian’s uniform ends to reveal just a sliver of that long neck. 

 Garak can’t stop the way his lips twitch upward at the slight trembling there. It feels like hope. 

* * *

  Julian shakes his head as several times in a row, the ache in the back of his head suddenly throbbing. Julian slides one hand to the back of his neck, feeling the slight mound where the chip lied. “That doesn’t make any sense.”

 “And yet neither Dax nor Chief O’Brien nor me want this version of you.” Garak answers him confidently, practically smirking when he sees the doubt start to spread across Julian’s gaze. His Julian would wriggle out of his grasp or argue with him, eyes flashing with affront and want Julian’s not even sure Garak knows is there. He merely frowns. 

Garak watches him carefully, as though trying to see if he’s making any kind of breakthrough. Julian smiles, not nearly animated enough, and he sees the frustration in Garak’s eyes clearly. “That’s just because you’re worried right now. Once I make the necessary judgments-”

 “We still won’t want this version of you.” Garak’s grips his shoulders a little more tightly now, pulling him closer as though to shield him from himself. Julian tries to look away from him, gaze flickering to the floor. Garak presses his index finger under Julian’s chin and tilts his head up so the good doctor has to meet his gaze. “let me take it out.”

 Julian meets Garak’s gaze with an almost empty one, but there’s shades of curiosity and almost  _ hope  _ along the edges. “Why not? I got rid of all the things you all don’t like about me.”

 “And everything we liked along with them.” Garak chides as though he’s being unreasonable. Julian’s eyes widen and a bit of hurt rushes through him, because that doesn’t make any sense whatsoever. Julian is still a genius, still capable of quick thinking and acting, still able to discuss anything that catches any of their interest with finesse as long as he has a few hours to study. 

  He didn’t change his genetic enhancements at all. 

 Julian takes another deep breath, glancing down at the white sheen of his desk for a few moments. Then he forces himself to meet Garak’s eyes. “What are you talking about?” 

Garak grins at him sharp and with too many teeth, mouth more a trap than a smile.“You’re right when you say you’re stubborn to the point of being infuriating, often talk what other people would consider too much, don’t pick up on social cues, focus on your pet interests too much, arrogant and incapable of realizing you  _ can _ be wrong, and have standards far too high for any living creature to meet.”

 “Thank you, Garak.” Julian mutters with a sound that’s half huff and half laughter, the pain in the back of his head nearly constant now. He really needs to update that chip before it starts for his neural pathways. 

 “But you’re also determined and dedicated, passionate about the things and people you care about, loyal and compassionate, enthusiastic and optimistic in a way I’ve grown fond of against my will, confident in your morals and your knowledge if apparently  _ nothing  _ else, and you have an integrity I respect even if does end with me on the wrong side of the barrel of a gun.” Garak says each word steadily and with a conviction Julian’s never heard in his voice before. 

 Julian can’t stop the way his hands shake a little, mouth opening and closing as he takes in the affection in Garak’s eyes. Like the old Julian was something precious - something loved. But that’s impossible. “Garak.” 

 “Our flaws are often also are strengths, my dear.” Garak’s voice is soft as he spreads his hand across his cheek, thumb just inches away from his mouth. And Julian feels  _ nothing _ about it, when he’s wanted this for years. Felt nothing when he gave away Kukalaka or they talked about  _ genocide _ \- and the ache starts to turn sharp at the back of his skull. 

 “So I should change everything back except the talking?” Julian asks before he can stop himself. He can hear the way his voice shakes. He wonders if it’s from pain or the regret the old him feels pushing its way to the surface. 

 Garak grins at him, small and crooked. His gaze fills with a tenderness that makes him feel warm and doubles the ache in the back of his head all at once. Julian finds he doesn’t mind the pain as much when Garak looks at him like that. “I said  _ other  _ people find it annoying when you talk too much. I find it endearing.”

 “You’re all going to be angry with me after we take it out, aren’t you?” Julian murmurs in a small voice, meeting Garak’s gaze with as much emotion as he can manage right now. Garak holds his breath for a moment and just stares at him, gaze giving away nothing and everything at once. 

 Garak takes his hand and leads him into one of the more private rooms in the sickbay, squeezing his hand once before he lets go to start going through Julian’s tools. His voice is almost too pleasant when he speaks again. “Worried I think.”

 Julian accepts the lie for the kindness that it is and walks Garak through the surgical procedure step by step. Then he goes to sleep for several hours. 

 This time he does feel different when he wakes up. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Comments and questions are welcomed and loved!


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Julian wakes up, Jadzia gives him some tough love, and feelings are shared.

Julian spends the next few hours in an almost fugue state. He barely notes when Garak takes him to his quarters and lies him across his bed with a surprising amount of care, though he remembers the soft kiss he presses to his forehead vividly. He knows at some point Miles and Jadzia took up vigil at his bedside, but it’s not until the third time that he wakes up enough to really understand that they’re _there._

 Julian glances between Jadzia and Miles with what he’s sure is almost too much fondness, smile so wide that it almost hurts his face. He’d forgotten how much he liked both of them. Then he catches the relieved but hurt look in Jadzia’s gaze and the way Miles lips are turned down, dark circles under his eyes. Suddenly he remembers why he didn’t remember until just this moment.

 Julian sits up on the bed, body curling in on itself as he takes in the weight of this moment. “I don’t suppose there’s anyway we could just chock this up to scientific explanation?”

 “That depends on if you want Kukalaka back.” Miles’ voice comes out teasing, but his brow is furrowed and gaze tense in a way that makes Julian’s stomach churn for causing it. Miles holds Kukalaka -as worn and with as many crooked stitches as ever - to him and it feels like salvation. Julian takes the bear in his right hand gingerly, thumb brushing over the stitches on his ear.

 Julian turns the bear to face him a moment and gives him a crooked smile, gaze softening even as his stomach still drops. He’s finally done them in this time. “What have you told the Captain?”

 “We haven’t told him anything yet.” Jadzia’s voice is calm but her gaze isn’t, emotions flickering across it at an almost lightening speed.

 “Right. I suppose I should be the one to do it. Good thing I’ve spent so many years practicing for what it’s like to be court martialed.” Julian mutters with a rueful smile, closing his eyes as he runs a hand down his face, the other gripping Kukalaka more tightly. To think he just avoided being dishonorably discharged from Starfleet for lying about his genetic engineering, only to be thrown out because of his own stupid whims.

 Julian thinks a wiser man would be able to find something poetic in that. Maybe he’ll ask Garak when things calm down a bit more.

Jadzia  takes a few steps toward the bed, arms folded behind her back. The gaze she gives him manages to be compassionate and harsh at the same time. Julian flinches at the stair, shoulders pulling together ashe brings Kukalaka closer to his chest. “Benjamin wouldn’t court martial you for something like this.”

 “Jadzia, I _stole_ a piece of Cardassian medical tech and used it without any kind of go ahead, and not to help _anyone_ but myself.” Julian cries as he throws the hand not holding Kukalaka out, voice rising on each word. Now that his morality isn’t being held at bay by a Cardassian implant, he feels a little sick over it.

  He is _not_ the type of man to break Starfleet’s rules unless there was good reason. He doesn’t know if him being annoying _really_ qualifies.

 “Well, at least we can be satisfied he’s back to himself.” Miles mutters in a low voice and then he starts laughing, loud and boisterous in a way that fills the room. Julian finds himself joining in after a second, entire body shaking as his arms go slack for a second, relief filling his chest for a moment. Even Jadzia joins in, her chortles joining theirs and some of the tension going out of the room.

 Until the laughter stops, anyway.

 Then Jadzia gives him a stern look then, her lips pressed together tightly. All the usual playfulness has left her gaze, replaced with an weariness that seems to go beyond the bone. I’m not saying there aren’t going to be consequences or that there shouldn’t be, Julian. I’m saying that we’re not going to take this to Starfleet.”

 “You’re angry at me.” Julian’s not even sure why he says it, because of course she is. He put his - and maybe even _her -_ career at risk on a whim to improve himself.

 Jadzia lets out a strangled sound and then closes her eyes as she takes a few deep breaths, likely letting 400 some years of wisdom channel her frustration. When she opens her eyes she glances at Miles and nods almost imperceptibly.

  Julian watches him leave and feels his throat grow a bit drier than before. Jadzia does dosn in the edge of the bed then, pressing her right hand against his knee. “Of course I am, but I’m also terrified. You need help, Julian. You need to talk to someone about this.”

 “So what do you suggest?” Julian knows that his voice would be more biting on a question like that under normal circumstances, but nothing about this is normal. Julian made sure of that, so instead his voice comes out almost in a plea for guidance.

 “Therapy.” Jadzia says plainly, and even though it’s the most obvious thing in the world, Julian can’t help flinching.

* * *

  Jadzia reminds herself that she’s better at tough love than Miles and not as good at it as Garak, and that’s exactly what Julian needs right now.

 She keeps  her expression as neutral as possible as she watches about a dozen flicker across Julian’s face. Affront, anxiety, confusion _somehow,_ and just enough hope to make Jadzia press on. Julian gives her a shaky smile, gaze anywhere but on her. “I don’t need to go to therapy, Jadzia. It was a momentary lapse of judgment due to scientific curiosity.”

 “This wasn’t scientific curiosity, Julian. Not entirely. You’ve recently gone through several traumatic experiences, none of which you sought any kind of help for.” Jadzia’s voice is softer than it was a few minutes ago, her brow furrowed as she reaches a hand out toward him. Julian swallows and looks down at the thin white sheets of his bed. It was easier, when she was angry.

 “I don’t think my time in a Dominion prison is the thing that made me want to change my personality. If anything, it made me feel better about myself.” Julian grins, sheeping and teasing all at once. Jadzia returns the smile for a second, and then schools her expression into something more serious. Her friendship with Julian has always been light, focused on fun and games and their love lives. This territory is new for them, but then maybe that’s part of the problem too.

 “The mind works in strange way. And that’s not the only thing that’s happened lately.” Jadzia’s voice comes out in almost whisper, voice soft. This is territory they don’t normally enter, but Jadzia thinks it’s time someone does. Clearly there was more damage done by the revelation of Julian’s enhancements than just his father going to prison.

 Julian meets her gaze with a steady one of his own this time, only the way his hand taps against the edge of his sheet giving away that he’s nervous. “If you mean that I’m … genetically enhanced … that’s been true since I was a child.”

 Jadzia smiles again, soft and careful as rests a hand in Julian’s shoulder. Julian meets her steady gaze with a much more anxious one, as though he’s still waiting for all of them to change their minds and reject him after all. “But this is the first time that everyone else knew too. Miles told me that you called yourself a fraud and we both know that you struggle with wanting to fix everything.”

 “I can’t change the fact I was genetically enhanced, Jadzia. Not without losing everything that makes me of value here.” Julian’s voice takes on a bitter note at that, the hand still holding his bear suddenly squeezing it more tightly. She doesn’t know if it’s good or that she’s relieved to hear upset again. Then Julian looks up at her with wide, earnest eyes, voice so soft she barely hears him. “I wasn’t trying to fix that.”

 “I know that, Julian.” Jadzia’s voice is firm  this time as she gives his knee a soft squeeze, gaze gentle. Jadzia  knows Julian would never put his patients or the rest of the base at risk of what that could potentially do. Not while he was chief medical officer.

 Julian lets out a low exhale, the set of his shoulders relaxing as he meets her gaze. “Then what’s your point?”

 “You were trying to fix the things you thought the genetic enhancements failed to correct.” Jadzia keeps her tone steady, trying not to show judgment nor pity. She doesn’t think either is going to help Julian right now. Still she knows her gaze is concerned and sympathetic, almost but not quite wet. She didn’t lose Julian, but she came damn close. “The problem isn’t that you’re genetically enhanced, it’s that you think that’s all there is of value to you.”

 “Have you  ever considered going in to counseling?” Julian asks with a rough laugh, short and rueful as he presses his hand over his face again. Jadzia squeezes his knee and then pulls her hand away, her smile forgiveness. They’re not out of the woods yet, she’s still frustrated and scared, but she thinks they’re going to be okay.

 “I’m not patient enough.” Jadzia answers with a wide smile, eyes twinkling now as she meets Julian’s own. He still looks unsure, but his smile is real and reaches his eyes. That’s more than they’ve had in a few weeks. “Get some rest and think about what I said.”

* * *

  “Jadzia told me you made an appointment with Dr. Telnorri, I think that’s a good idea.” Miles grunts as he stares down at his synthale. He watches the amber liquid swirl back and forth for longer than what’s strictly polite. Then he glances back up at Julian with a crooked smile, the other man giving him an almost pained grin. He wonders if he should have gone for the real deal after all. “He’s a good listener.”

 Julian lets out a low exhale and picks up his own mug, taking a long sip of his own red leaf tea. Miles raises an eyebrow, crossing his arms as he slides his glass of synthale back onto the table. He doesn’t have time to wait around for Julian to pick up on his social cues, but he feels bad just outright asking too. “I’m sure that he is, but that’s not why you came here, is it?”

 “What the hell were you thinking, putting a piece of bloody cardassian tech in your head like that?” Miles shouts before he can stop himself, the question that’s been haunting him for the past few days bursting free from his chest. Julian winces at his tone, his entire face crumpling in on itself at the same his shoulders slump down. He looks a bit like a deflated balloon. “Did you even think about the consequences?”

 “Do I ever?” Julian quips with a wide smile and a look of ruefulness that has become painfully familiar to Miles. Normally that look makes Miles let most things go, no matter how annoying Julian’s being, but this time he just gives his friend a flat look. Julian lets out another breath, smile vanishing as he presses his hands together around the mug. “I thought - I thought it would make things better. I thought it would make _me_ better.”

 Miles opens and closes his mouth a few times, because on some level he’s known that was the answer - Julian tries to fix too many things and people not to want to fix himself - but it still makes no sense to Miles. And not just because there’s nothing about Julian to fix. “How? By making yourself boring?”

 Julian scoffs at that, gaze irritated and amused at the same time as he presses a hand over his face. When he looks at Miles, there’s something almost longing in his expression. “No, likable.”

 “Julian?” Miles keeps his tone as even as possible, but he can’t help gripping his synthale a bit tighter than before. Julian was liked - was loved. Didn’t he know that before all this?

 “I know no one thinks I do, but I know what I’m like. I talk too much and I don’t pick up on social cues, I miss how other people are feeling, I’m stubborn and sanctimonious and _annoying_ and - just not good enough. I know I’m an acquired taste, I just wanted to know what it was like not to be one for awhile.” Julian’s gaze is embarrassed and rueful, as though even he realizes just how ridiculous that sounds. Julian raps two fingers against his leg for a moment, the other resting stiffly at his side.

 “You know, you’re not wrong about being an acquired taste, but the thing is, once someone acquires you, it’s hard to want anything else.” Miles’ voice is warm, grin light and playful as he reaches a hand over to awkwardly pat Julian on the knee. Banter and teasing have always been a key part of their friendship and they’ve - well okay, Miles - has never been one for this touchy-feely stuff. 

  But if that’s what Julian needs right now to stay the kind of annoying Miles has grown fond of, then Miles can stand a few hugs here and there.

 Julian leans in and grabs his shoulder, gaze fond in a way that makes Miles scowl a little. Julian grins brightly, voice smug and thankful at the same time. “Thank you, Miles.”

* * *

 Garak lets himself into Julian’s quarters, knowing that the doctor’s enhanced hearing will pick up his footsteps. Julian waves at him when he comes into the room fully, gaze briefly eager before he tried - and fails - to school it into something less obvious.

 Julian raises an eyebrow, setting his padd to the side as he spreads out languidly on the couch, his slender limbs on display. Julian grins playfully at him, waving lazily as Garak takes a seat on the edge of his couch. You don’t all have to keep coming here, you know. I haven’t suddenly become so fragile that I can’t leave my own quarters except for work.”

 “Of course not, Doctor, I was just hoping we could have a more _intimate_ lunch.” Garak assures him with a smile that gives away nothing, sliding onto what little is left open of the couch. He presses his hand against Julian’s ankles until the other man pulls his knees up, so his legs are bent and the edge of his feet just barely brush against Garak’s thighs.

 “Is there something so scandalous about _The Age Of Innocence_ that you didn’t feel feel we could discuss it in the replimat?” Julian’s voice is half disbelieving and half intrigued, and he leans forward, wrapping his right arm around his knees and resting his chin on top of it. His gaze is bright and curious, lips twitching, and Garak can’t believe he almost lost this beautiful creature. He has to make sure that won’t happen again.

 Garak grins, sharp b and knowing as he slides a hand onto the doctor’s knee, finger mere inches away from his face. Julian swallows, eyes becoming hooded with anticipation. “Not at all, my dear. It was a bit tedious, but I thought we could use this lunch to discuss more personal matters.”

 “Such as?” Julian raises an eyebrow, licking his lips twice in quick succession. Garak reminds himself that they’re not here to discuss _those_ kind of intimacies. Not yet, anyway.

 “What did you think I would gain from the ‘perfected’ Julian Bashir?” Garak’s tone is conversational, as though he’s asking about the weather or after one of Julian’s dull lady friends. His gaze though is piercing, questions heavy with a weight Garak doesn’t know.

Julian’s eyes widen almost comically, the hand not wrapped around his knees coming up in the air and flailing as he leans back against his side of the couch. He lets go of his legs to bring the other hand up alongside it, creating an illusionary barrier between them. “I - we both know that I don’t read social cues well at all and I’m sure I’ve offended you plenty of times and I talk too much -“

 “We both know that I like how much you talk.” Garak cuts him off in a chiding tone that even he knows isn’t fair. But then, it’s also not his fault Julian is such a terrible liar. Julian slumps in defeat, voice almost a whisper.

 “My standards. I mean - I still had them, I just made myself care about them less, made myself feel less of a need to defend them to all your never ending critiques.” Julian takes the time to give Garak a pointed look at that, smirking in a way that’s almost affectionate. Then his gaze drops back to his wringing hands, voice shaking almost in the same tempo.  “I made it so I wasn’t so afraid of what I’d done that I avoided you no matter how much I missed you.”

 “My dear, you don’t need to be afraid of yourself. You are a good man, and being a good man means that sometimes you have to make decisions you might not like.” Garak murmurs softly as he captures one of Julian’s shaking hands with his own, feeling a surge of hope when Julian doesn’t pull free from his grip.

Julian gives him a flat look, but his voice is thankfully heavy with a guit he’s been hiding from Garak for over a year. He’s almost impressed. “I shot you.”

 “To save everyone else. I might not agree with your actions Julian, but I admire and respect your integrity.” Garak uses as sincere a voice as he’s able to, meeting Julian’s questioning stare with a firm one of his own. Julian swallows a little, eyes terrified and ecstatic all at once, the true definition of the sublime. Garak feels his lips twitch up into a smile almost in time with Julian’s. “And for the record, I’ve missed your company as well.”

 “Then I guess we better start making up for lost time.” Julian grabs Garak’s free hand with his own as he speaks, daring and then immediately shy as he gives Garak a questioning look. Garak smiles too wide, eyes bright and wanting as he squeezes both of Julian’s hands. If only his dear doctor knew just how much _time_ they had to make up.

 Then Julian grins, gaze soft and affectionate, and Garak thinks he might know after all. 

* * *

 “ … And that is how he Ferengi lymbatic nodes function. Isn’t that fascinating?” Julian finishes his story with an empathetic gesture, grinning brightly as Garak - Elim, they’re dating now he should call him _Elim_ \- gives him a patient nod. But there’s a tenderness to his gaze that makes Julian confident Elim enjoyed listening to him, even if he’s far less sure that Elim will remember anything he’s said over in the last 15 minutes.

 “Your passion for medicine of all kinds, even the truly grotesque, inspires, Julian.” Elim graces him with a warm smile, tilting his head to the right just enough to let Julian know that there’s some truth to his words. Julian’s learning to read those signals, a bit. He’s still rubbish at it with most people, but not quite as much with Elim.

 “Why thank you, Elim.” Julian answers back with a scoff, grinning as he lets his gaze drop to where he’s moving his fork around in clockwise circles. His other hand runs up and down the rushes along Elim’s wrist, sleeves rolled up upon his request. “I was wondering if you’d like to have dinner with me tonight. In my quarters. If you’re not busy, I mean. I know how much time custom clothing takes and -“

“I’d be delighted to have dinner with _you,_  Julian.” Elim’s heightens the lilt of his voice on ‘you’, eye ridges rising pointedly. It’s been exactly two weeks since Julian took the chip out, close to the same amount of time he has in and Elim still hasn’t let it go. Julian lets out a bright laugh that only makes Elim’s smirk deepen in a way that manages to be endearing and obnoxious at the same time.

Julian follows his impulses and leans across the table, free hand wrapping around the back of Elim’s neck. Elim leans in before Julian can make another move, catching his mouth in a lingering kiss.

 Julian laughs into the kiss and feels a sense of contentment rush through him. His impulses are working out a lot better now than the last time he tried something cardassian.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Kudos and comments are loved!

**Author's Note:**

> Please let me know if anything else needs to be tagged!
> 
> And comments and questions are loved! :)


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